Page 89 of The Naughty List Agreement

It wasn’t simply the act of doing one that spread, it was the feeling of goodwill that came from it. The food court had opened and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air.

She hadn’t seen Nick in three days. He texted her whenever he had a second, and she responded, but she knew what it was like to have a work deadline and wasn’t expecting him to drop everything for her. Supporting Nick where she could just felt right to her. While a part of her missed him, another part, the older, more cynical part of herself, had expected it. She got on without him. A man wasn’t necessary for her happiness. At least, that’s what she told herself.

She missed him, and that was the truth. She knew she hadn’t conjured those feelings on her own, but it was so hard to have faith when she felt like the rug had been ripped out from under her. Hannah had created a group called FizzFridays—the name was picked purely for alliteration since they usually went out on a Wednesday—and Cora was really enjoying their growing friendship.

Hannah had an offbeat sense of humor and now that Cora knew her better, she regretted how she’d acted toward her before.

Fliss sent that GIF of Ben Affleck leaning on a wall smoking a cigarette and looking as if his soul had left his body. Under the GIF she wrote: Me if I have to answer one more query about why the Winter Wonderland ends on December 24th.

Cora used the laugh emoji as a response.

She smiled as she hurried through the toy village. There was the usual queue to write letters to Santa, which made her slow down. She noticed that adults and kids alike were jotting notes. She’d never believed in him, but there were so many things that she hadn’t thought were possible that seemed to be manifesting around her.

What could it hurt to write a letter?

What was she going to write? She was too, well, too her to put down anything sappy or sentimental.

Glancing over the shoulder of a woman writing a letter next to her, she saw that the woman’s letter was about gratitude.

That Cora could do. She’d read an article that successful and content people journaled what they were thankful for and it helped to bring some peace to their daily lives. Which was one thing that she wanted. She loved her job. She was happy with her reputation there.

Her focus turned to her personal life, which was a little cold and empty. Or had been. She was making strides to change that part of herself and wanted to continue to grow and change.

Journaling was one of the things she planned to implement in January. Also maybe watching hockey so she’d be able to talk to Nick about his favorite sport. This would be a nice way to start. Even if no one read the letter.

Taking a piece of the paper, she stood off to the side, using her notebook and own pen. She started writing.

Dear Santa,

So formal, but I figured a traditional guy like yourself would appreciate proper letter format. I’m Cora Quill. Doubt you’ve heard of me. I run the Winter Wonderland in Pine Falls, VT. A celebration of Christmas and winter.

I bet you’re getting lots of orders for the WonderHaus. I helped bring that creative toy to national prominence—but that doesn’t matter. I really wanted to just say thank you, but I don’t know how because I’m not sure you’re real.

Okay, so here’s the thing, if I had one wish for the world this year, it would be peace. For everyone to go back to seeing their neighbors as people and treating them as part of the community. I think (humble brag time) that is what Winter Wonderland does for the citizens of Pine Falls.

I’m a bit old for toys and I can afford to buy whatever I need or want. But there is one thing I would like for Christmas. I’ve been seeing a guy… It started out as resentful lust and turned into a fling but⁠—

She stopped writing. No one was going to read it. Why not write down what she truly wanted?

Her hesitation stemmed solely from her own fear. What if she asked for it and nothing happened?

But what if she didn’t? The result would be the same. In this anonymous space she had the freedom to just put it into words.

But I want more. I want Nick to stick around after the holidays, and maybe for forever. I know he wants a wife but marriage scares me. I see how fragile it is, how families don’t last.

But I think it’s a risk I’d take with him, if he asked me again.

Okay, so that’s it: all I want for Christmas is Nick Bari.

With holiday best wishes,

Cora Quill

Before she could change her mind, she folded the letter in half, placed it in the envelope provided and dropped it in the mailbox that the festival had set up.

Moving quickly, she bumped and hurried through the crowds on her way toward Nick Bari Toys. Buddy had texted her this morning saying he could use a pair of extra hands if she was available. So she’d dressed in her tartan cigarette pants, with a cream-colored sweater that had Jolly stitched into it and went to join them.

Cora’s name on the Naughty List had faded to near transparency. Nick saw changes not only in the book but reflected in the coffers as well. The pulse of Gold Lumen in the mortal realm had strengthened in the days since Winter Wonderland opened—steady, sustained, not the sharp spike of spectacle but something deeper.